


Port in a Storm

by dracoqueen22



Series: Tethers [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy Typical Violence, First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 12:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: On her way from one landmass to the next, Rathi meets two very interesting mortals, and finds herself with two new friends.





	Port in a Storm

Rathi leaned over the railing of the crow’s nest and watched the new passengers creep across the gangplank. Captain Johannes hadn’t taken on as many as he’d picked up in Port Lysa, which meant he either hadn’t found enough cargo, or he was saving room for something else. 

She hummed a little tune under her breath, chin planted on her folded arm, taking in the array of human, dwarf, and the odd half-elf as they tromped up the gangplank, hauling satchels behind them. Many wore ragged clothes, had the look of people who were tired and worn, had probably used the last of their coin to buy passage. 

Rumors of the Bloodpack driving people from their homes might be less rumor and more fact, Rathi supposed. Times were growing darker in the Wildlands. Too dark for her tastes. 

Perhaps the Silken Heights would be more her flavor. More fun. She hadn’t come to the mortal plane for anything but entertainment. 

She only had so much time to spare. 

A glint of metal caught her eye. Rathi straightened, head tilting, her flames sputtering back to the dark spikes of her hair. Oh, ho! What was this? Some passengers were not like the others, hm? 

The two individuals boarding now – human, she suspected, though there was something about the female that rang a little off – were not the average poor soul seeking a better harbor. No, these two were armored and armed, holding themselves with purpose. Something in their energy spoke of gods – clerics or paladins maybe? She’d have to get closer to find out. 

They were beautiful. 

Rathi licked her lips and hummed a wordless tune. They both had gorgeous nut-brown skin and dark hair. The male had his in long, thin braids which he kept in a gather at the base of his neck. The female had hers in a wild puff of curls framing a plump face and a bright smile. 

Rathi wanted to meet them. They were, by far, the most interesting people to step foot on the Titan Lily. 

Rathi stood and swung out over the rim of the crows nest, scuttling down the long lengths of braided rope to land on the deck with a flourish. One of the nearby crew startled and dropped his crate of supplies with an audible yelp. 

Rathi laughed and tossed him a wink. “Sorry about that. Need a hand?” 

He dropped down, scooping up the crate quickly. “No, miss. I’m all right. Just please… don’t do that again?” 

She offered a playful salute. Sadly, he didn’t get the joke. The crew didn’t have much of a sense of humor. She blamed Captain Johannes. He was far too serious of a man. All work, no play. Bor-ing. 

“Promise,” Rathi said with a wink, and turned to vault over a nearby stack of barrels, landing soundlessly on the other side. 

And right in front of the two individuals who had caught her eye. The woman squeaked and reared back. The man narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on the strap of his leather satchel. 

“Good morning!” Rathi kept her tone bright and cheerful, so as not to scare the humans. So squishy humans were. And easily frightened. “Welcome aboard the Titan Lily.” 

The woman gathered herself and drew up alongside the man. The cut of their cheeks, the slope of their noses -- Rathi suspected family rather than simple friendship or romance bound them. 

“We appreciate the welcome,” she said, and Rathi shivered at the low, husky voice, like barbeque smoke on a pitfire it was. “And you are?” 

Rathi planted her hand on her hip, and noticed them noticing her lack of another arm. “You can call me Rathi. I’m a passenger, same as you, on my way to Port Duran. From where do you hail?” 

“It’s none of your business,” the male said, his deep baritone a perfect complement to his companion’s. It, too, gave Rathi a little thrill. Though the suspicion in his eyes was less than friendly. 

Rathi tried to keep her smile from slipping. “Fair enough. You can probably guess where I’m from.” Her hair heated, dark flickering into the yellow-orange of fire before dimming again. “But come now, I’ve given you my name. Would you do me the honor of giving yours?” 

The male frowned, but his female companion offered a genuine smile. “You can call me Celeste,” she said, and she juggled her bags and weapon as though she intended to try and shake Rathi’s hand, but couldn’t seem to free one up. "The grumpy one is Tyrael." 

"I am not grumpy," Tyrael said, but it was with the resigned sigh of an older brother long aggravated by a younger sister. Rathi should know. She'd heard Eryen make it multiple times. "I am cautious around strangers." 

Celeste rolled her eyes. "We're in a world of strangers, TJ. Get over it." She muttered something else, something Rathi didn't catch, and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "It's nice to meet you," she added, and fumbled another bag, but this time, Rathi swept out a hand to catch it, slinging the strap over her shoulder. 

"Here, let me help," Rathi offered with a grin she hoped was friendly. Certainly Brunhilde had always fallen for it. 

Celeste's smile was sunny in return. "Thanks. At least some people around here know how to be helpful." She raised her eyebrows in Tyrael's direction. 

"No one told you to pack so much stuff," Tyrael muttered and adjusted his grip on his own, solitary travel bag. "You carry what you pack, that’s the rule." 

"You weren't complaining when I had that salve you needed," Celeste retorted and she gave Rathi a pointed look. "Someone lost his balance and fell in a sumac patch." 

"I'm glad you're making friends, lass, but ya think mebbe you can do it out of the stairwell?" The voice rose in an accented grump from behind Tyrael. 

"Oops." Celeste flushed and moved to the side, her cousin copying the motion, as a stout halfling came trudging past, burdened down with many colorful bags, a fluffy mustache dancing on his upper lip. 

"Much obliged," he said. 

"Do you need some help?" Celeste called after him as Rathi angled to let the halfling pass as well. 

"No, I got it," he said, and vanished into the dimmer gloom of the corridor leading to the guest quarters. 

Celeste grinned. 

Tyrael sighed and nudged her with the back of his hand. "Go on, cousin. There are others trying to board, and we're still in the way." 

Celeste rolled her eyes but trudged forward, and Rathi moved to lead the way. "Stop taking your blue balls out on me." 

Rathi burst into laughter before she could stop herself, as Tyrael reared back with outrage and laughter danced in Celeste's pretty eyes. "Blue balls?" she echoed. "Please. Tell me more." 

Celeste leaned in close for a fake whisper that anyone paying attention could hear. "He's been in a mood since we left Alduin. His deity sent him on a quest, and he had to leave his pretty boyfriend behind." 

"Awww. That's sad." And a pity. Sulking, heartsick humans were not Rathi's idea of a good time, though Celeste seemed like she might be up for a tumble or two.

“Celeste!” Tyrael hissed, and his face flooded with heat, darkening his skin to a ruddy brown. 

Celeste, however, shrugged and offered Rathi a wink. “He hates being called out for having feelings.” She rolled her eyes. 

By the gods, Rathi was in love with both of them already. 

Rathi grinned. “Captain doesn’t assign quarters. It’s every passenger for themselves. I’ve got room in my bunk, if you need.” She leaned in close, got a whiff of some kind of incense around Celeste – sage and elderflower, she guessed. “Promise to keep my hand to myself, which isn’t something I can say about some of the others around here.” 

“Does that include my dour cousin or is he too much of a wet blanket?” Celeste asked. 

Rathi laughed and led them down the hall, shimmying past other passengers and their armfuls of belongings as they banged on doors and tried to find an empty bunk. “There’s room for him, too.” She waggled her eyebrows at Tyrael. “We can even share if you’re feeling lonely.” 

Tyrael muttered something in a language Rathi didn’t recognize. His eyebrows drew down in such a deep furrow, he seemed to age ten years. “No, thank you,” he finally said in Common. 

“A pity.” Rathi hooked her elbow in Celeste’s and towed her to one of the doors on the furthest end, near the aft and just before the last ladder leading to the deck. “Kind of a killjoy, isn’t he?” 

Celeste chuckled and said, out of the corner of her mouth, “He hates situations he can’t control. This whole quest has ruined him.” 

Tyrael sighed, and looked like he might try to hide behind his palms, were it not for the fact his arms were full. 

Rathi slipped her arm free of Celeste’s and rapped her knuckles in a pattern on the door she’d claimed for her own. She waited until she felt the magic tingle in the air, and the lock click. Ahh. Open sesame. 

The room was painfully small. Smaller, even, than the washroom she’d have had back home. It barely fit her, two more grown adults would be a squeeze. But there were two hammocks, two trunks, and she’d scored one of the few portholes on the passenger deck. 

“Welcome to our humble abode for the next week, weather willing,” Rathi said, gesturing to the room at-small. “One of the hammocks is mine. I’ll let you two arm-wrestle for the other. Or we can share. I’m not shy.” She winked. 

“It’s cozy.” Celestedropped her bags to the ground and groaned, stretching her arms over her head. “I like it.” She dragged her fingers through her hair, making the curls fluff out further. “Feels like adventure.” 

Rathi grinned. 

Yeah. It sure did.

~

They got settled.

Rathi kicked back in her hammock and set it to sway while Tyrael and Celeste argued over who got the more comfortable hammock, and who was stuck bunking on the floor. Celeste won by virtue of being better at rock, paper, scissors. Three times in a row. 

Either Tyrael had terrible luck, or Celeste knew some secret to beating her cousin every time. Maybe he had some obvious tells. 

After that, the two of them shucked off their armor -- all of the heavy platemail for Tyrael and the chainmail for Celeste. It was on Rathi’s advice because the last thing they needed was to be clomping around the ship in that heavy crap. Balance was hard enough to keep without extra weight setting you off balance. 

The small room took on the mingled scent of three people and days of traveling – sweat and musk and campfire and salt-soaked wood and various soap spices. Rathi soaked it up because it was far, far different from home. It was oddly comfortable. 

Whistles echoing from the deck drew Rathi and her new pals up like fireflies in the evening. The Titan Lily was about to set sail for Port Duran, and Rathi wasn’t the only one ready to say farewell to Lashore. 

Onward to adventure. 

Salty sea air smacked her in the face as Rathi scrabbled up the ladder to the deck. She bounced on the balls of her feet, resisting the urge to climb up into the occupied crow’s nest. Tyrael looked a little green around the gills, his knuckles white as he gripped the deck rail, but Celeste’s grin was wide and bright as the wind tossed her curls around her face. 

Rigging creaked and gulls passed by overhead, squawking noisily. Crewmembers shouted commentary back and forth while Rathi joined Celeste at the railing, their gazes pointed toward the horizon and the clouds waiting for them. 

“It’s going to storm,” Celeste said, with a deep breath, closing her eyes as though every inhale of the salty air was bringing her new life. She touched the clasp of her cloak, the elegant medal emblazoned with a symbol Rathi didn’t recognize. 

“You think so?” Rathi asked. She folded her arm on the railing, only to grimace when a splinter dug into her bare skin. She attempted to gnaw at it, cursing at her lack of second arm. How inconvenient. 

“I know so.” Celeste looked over at her and frowned. “Here. Let me get it.” 

Her hands were warm and gentle, sure as she squinted at Rathi’s arm, then withdrew the splinter between two expertly manicured nails. 

“You a healer?” Rathi asked. 

“Cleric,” Celeste corrected as she held up the splinter before flicking it over the rail with a shrug. “Of Berenthas.” She pointed at the clouds. “God of storms, you know.” 

Rathi chuckled. “Oh, so you know-know.” She flicked Celeste’s clasp where it gleamed at her left shoulder. “Think you can tell your god to cut us a break? I don’t want the Titan Lily to sink.” 

“Neither does he.” Celeste grinned and brushed her fingers over the clasp again, and Rathi swore a glint of magic danced across the polished metal. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” 

“I’m trusting you on this,” Rathi said. 

Celeste leaned against the railing, her own arms guarded by the long sleeves of her tunic, preventing splinters. “So soon after we met?” 

“I’m good at reading people.” Rathi squinted and tapped her nose. “You’re one of the good ones.” 

Celeste grinned and it made her whole face light up, her eyes bright and crinkling at the corners. “Good to know.”

~

They were not, in fact, fine.

Except they didn’t have Berenthas to blame.

~

It was late afternoon when the storm hit, battering the ship with chilly bursts of damp air and sprays of rain. The sky was a thunderous grey, and it rumbled ominously, but Celeste didn’t seem worried, and Rathi hoped her judgment and her god were sound.

Tyrael groaned below deck, still green, lolling about on the floor and trying not to vomit everywhere. Being seasick was no fun, and though Rathi had pilfered an apple from the pantry, he’d only managed a few bites. 

“There’s a spell I can learn tomorrow,” Celeste explained as she refilled Tyrael’s cup and patted him on the head, ignoring the half-hearted swipe he took at her. “It’ll help him if he needs it.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Tyrael groaned. 

Rathi wanted to believe him, but his beautiful skin was a sickly shade. “Stay in bed,” she suggested, and Tyrael didn’t have the energy to argue otherwise. 

She and Celeste opted to head to the galley, as the wind raged with the oncoming storm, and the ship tossed on the waves. 

A loudly ringing bell stopped them in their tracks. Celeste looked at her with a preemptive hardbiscuit clenched between her teeth, and her eyebrows raised. 

“Uh. What’s that?” she asked around the mouthful, and it took Rathi a moment to translate the muffled words. 

Rathi thought about it. 

The bell sounded again. 

Her eyes widened. “There’s a problem,” Rathi said. “We’re being attacked or there’s a waterspout or something else, also terrible, is going on.” The last time she’d heard the bell, they’d had to navigate around a spontaneous whirlpool, and the bell had called for all hands on deck. Even Rathi had pitched in, because she’d had no interest in drowning. 

“Sbfmble.” Celeste said, spitting out a few crumbs before she swallowed her mouthful and repeated, “Shit. Let’s go.” 

They abandoned dinner. Rathi led them to the nearest ladder. They ran into Tyrael on the way, who swayed alarmingly, still green around the gills. 

“Trouble?” he asked, clutching the wall of the corridor, twists limp and ragged around his face. 

“You should be in bed,” Celeste chastised. 

“Either take the time to put him back or keep an eye on him for whatever’s going on up top,” Rathi said, and started to climb, scrambling up the ladder with a deftness that belied her loss of limb. 

She’d had a lot of practice. 

She poked her head up and instantly squinted against a gust of salt-spray air as it battered her head. Shouting floated to her ears, and she heard a weird, high-pitched snapping sound. 

Rathi pulled herself completely onto the deck and moved aside, out of Celeste’s way. 

She stayed in a low crouch, trying to assess the situation without being noticed. At first, she couldn't see the problem. It was too small, too quick. Crewmembers batted at thin air, shouting at each other, swinging at nothing. 

Celeste climbed out, standing bold and defiant, the wind whipping her hair. She gasped. "Pixies! What are they doing out here?" 

Pixies? 

Ah. Rathi could see them now. Little flittering beings no bigger than her hand, their bodies framed in a pale glow, currently harrying the crew and the ship. She counted eight, but had no idea if that was the extent of the group or if more were coming. 

She frowned. No, pixies would not be out here. These were water sprites. But that made even less sense, as water sprites were peaceful creatures, not known to attack unprovoked. 

Something had provoked them. 

"Should we help?" Celeste asked, and she raised her mace, which made Rathi blink, because she had no idea where it came from. 

"They won't be able to sink the ship, but they can definitely slow us down or make problems." Rathi stood and grinned, closing her hand into a fist. "I don't mind a fight. How about you?" 

Celeste's grin matched her own. "It's about time this adventure got interesting. Let's go." 

A pained groan rose from behind them. Rathi looked, and Celeste did, too, as Tyrael clawed his way out of the hold, like some kind of diseased beast struggling to find freedom. 

Rathi reached down and grabbed one arm while Celeste grabbed the other, and together, they hauled him on deck, where he wobbled like a climbing vine without a brace. 

"You should have stayed in bed," Celeste grumbled. 

"You're on babysitting duty," Rathi announced, and darted forward before Celeste could protest, calling on Firenya's power and feeling the fiery tingle as it extended outward from her shoulder, forming a hand of metal and flame. 

_Make me proud_, whispered in her ear, and Rathi fired a blast of pure volcanic energy at the nearest sprite, disintegrating it on the spot, too quick for the sprite to make a sound of pain. 

_Well done_. 

The smell of their scorched brethren, however, caused a cluster of them to whirl, swarming Rathi with dizzying speed. 

"Traitor! Murderer! Fiend!" They hissed at her, and fired off bolts from their short bows, aiming for her tender bits. 

She dodged two, but the rest slammed into her shoulder, her torso. There was a dull pulse of alien warmth, threatening to pull her under a dark wave, but another bolt sank into her clavicle and the pain snapped her out of it. 

Behind her, Celeste shouted, her words were caught by the wind and stolen. Rathi glanced at them, Celeste struggling to keep TJ upright as he lolled in her arm, a bolt sticking out of his shoulder. Celeste hissed at the sprites and slapped her cousin, causing his eyes to snap open and him to struggle to get his feet under him.

They'd be fine. 

Surely. 

Two arrows flew past Rathi, and she dodged quickly, narrowly avoiding becoming a pincushion. 

"Sorry!" one of the crewmembers shouted as a sprite whirled around and hissed at him, baring its teeth in aggravated fury. 

"Don't miss next time!" Rathi snapped, and swung at the nearest sprite, trying to get two in one swing. But they were so fast and small, they dodged. Damn. 

She caught one on a backswing, knocking it hard to the deck. It landed with a sharp crack and went still, shortbow tumbling from its hands. This seemed to set the rest off in a frenzy, and they fired another barrage of bolts at her. 

“_Defend, my pretty._" 

Rathi felt Firenya's presence, and jerked up her arm, in time for most of the bolts to strike the fire-metal of it, and clang away. One broke through her defense, clipping her cheek and leaving a stinging cut behind. 

Sweet. 

She's really going to love this arm. 

A bundle of rain-soaked white capped with curly hair darted in front of her as Celeste threw both her hands out, and a wave of thunderous energy burst outward. It smacked three of the sprites, disintegrating them in a flash. 

"Thanks," Rathi said, clapping her on the shoulder. "Where's Tyrael?" 

"Sleeping," Celeste said before she jerked and stumbled into Rathi, a bolt in her shoulder. She grasped at it. "Shit. Me, too," she hissed before she slumped, and Rathi struggled to catch her, one arm around her mid-section. 

Damn sprites and their toxins. 

Rathi glanced back at Tyrael, who was indeed slumped on the ground, flat on his back, snoring loudly enough to be heard over the wind and the rain. The sprites, however, left him be, and while Rathi had two harrying her, another pair had decided to take aim at the sails, cutting through the thick fabric with daggers that were no doubt enchanted. 

"Akron's down! Burgess, take the helm!" one of the crewmembers bellowed, as more arrows flew through the air, a flurry of them missing, but one striking true as it pierced a sprite from behind and sent her tumbling down to the deck. 

They were clearly outnumbered, why did they continue to fight?

No. 

Rathi shook her head. 

She'd worry about that later.

She reached up, smacked Celeste on the cheek. "Come on, girl. We have to finish this," she hissed into Celeste's ear, and fired an energy blast over her newfound friend’s shoulder, her aim striking true and disintegrating the sprite. 

Celeste jerked in her arms. "I'm awake!" she yelped, struggling to get her feet beneath her. "Just gotta... stand. Or something. What the hell is in those darts?" 

"Less chatting, more killing," Rathi said as she aimed and fired again, the sprite dodging quickly. 

"Right." Celeste pointed a finger at one of the sprites and blue fire magically erupted around the being. 

It shrieked as it turned to ash, quickly caught on the wind and vanished into the storm. 

Rathi pushed Celeste onto her own feet, and the cleric wiped rainwater from her face, her curls barely tamed by the heavy fall. 

"One more," Rathi said with a grin. She turned and aimed, where the sprite harrying the sail seemed to turn and realize it was alone. 

It hesitated, wings flittering about it, and Rathi sent off another burst of charge, blasting the sprite into dust. 

"Is that all?" Rathi shouted, trying to capture the attention of the crew, waving her arms pointedly. 

"I have to get my cousin." Celeste darted to Tyrael's side, though he was waking with a low groan, turning over to his side in an attempt to rise. "You idiot, you should have stayed downstairs." 

"Wanted to help," Tyrael grumbled. 

It occurred to Rathi the only reason she could hear them was because the wind had died down and the rain was less severe. Perhaps the water sprites had brought some of the storm's severity with them, for while the rain still fell and the sky was cloudy, it was gentler. 

"That's all of them," one of the crewmembers shouted back, and a ragged cheer rose from those Rathi could see. "Thanks for your help." 

"Anytime." Rathi grinned as her arm dissolved in shimmering sparks, sizzling to nothing where they hit the damp deck. 

She jogged over to her new friends, Celeste pulling Tyrael to his feet with seemingly no effort. He swayed where he stood, and it was hard to tell if he was damp from the rain or from the sweat. 

"Are you sure he's seasick?" Rathi asked. "Maybe he picked up some illness." 

"I'm starting to think it's a bit of both," Celeste said with a sigh. She was gentle, however, as she tucked a loose twist over her cousin's ear. "Come on, TJ. Let's get you back to bed." 

His eyes were dull and glassy, and Rathi twinged with sympathy. Adventure, for her, was great fun and excitement. She enjoyed sailing as much as she enjoyed the long ride through the Seasalt Flats, and she was eager to see what else the world had in store for her. 

She had the feeling Tyrael was quite the opposite, though he gamely trudged forward on whatever mysterious quest his deity had given him. What was it like, to have that kind of faith?

"I apologize." Tyrael sounded miserable. 

Rathi’s irritation crumbled. If he wasn’t so handsome, Rathi might have held onto it for a little longer. 

She took Tyrael’s other side and assisted Celeste in getting her cousin back to their room. It wasn’t easy, but they managed. Celeste tucked him into bed, under the blankets, and her fingers glowed a gentle, calming blue as she touched his forehead. 

“Rest, cousin. You’ll feel better in the morning,” Celeste said. 

“I certainly hope so.” Tyrael touched her wrist in a gesture of gratitude. “Thank you. I’m glad you came with me.” 

Celeste chuckled and tugged on one of his hair twists. “Told you. Now sleep.” 

Tyrael grumbled, but his eyes closed, and it took a matter of moments for him to fall into slumber. Rathi had to admit, she was impressed. Firenya could do a lot for Rathi, but healing and restoring were not a part of it. 

“What did you cast on him?” Rathi asked. 

“It’s called lesser restoration,” Celeste answered and unbuckled the clasp of her soaked, throughly wrinkled cloak, folding it over the end of the hammock. “It clears minor illnesses and maybe it’ll help calm his stomach. Tomorrow, I’ll take something that might help long-term.” 

“That’s amazing.” 

Celeste ducked her head and then tucked a loose curl back behind her ear. “Not really. What’s amazing is your arm.” Her eyes fell to Rathi’s shoulder and the stump of her upper arm. “You had one, and then it was gone. That was magic?” 

“A gift. From my patron.” Rathi lifted her stump of an arm where she’d had a local artisan tattoo Firenya’s brand in the skin. “Not the same kind of relationship as you and your deity, but similar enough, I suppose. I lost my arm in a challenge to maintain leadership of my people, and now I have a weapon when I need it.” 

Celeste’s eyebrows crawled toward her hairline. “You’re a leader?” 

“Is that surprising?” 

“Actually, not at all.” Celeste gave her an approving nod, and her gaze flicked to Rathi’s forehead pointedly. “Is that what the paint means?” 

Rathi resisted the urge to reach up and touch her forehead, where the ink was no doubt faded and smeared by her travel and the storm. She’d have to re-do it in the morning. 

“In a way,” Rathi hedged. She liked Celeste, but she wasn’t ready to spill all her secrets yet. “Though they won’t be permanent until I take the throne. For now, I have to maintain them myself.” 

Celeste pulled off her damp robe, throwing it over a hook in the wall, leaving her clad in only a thin undertunic which bared her legs up to the knee. “I’d like to see your home someday. I’m sure it’s amazing.” She paused and lowered her voice, glancing briefly at snoozing Tyrael before she added, “I want to see everything.” 

Rathi nodded and started working on her own clothes. It seemed a good time for bed, dinner bedamned. She might have fought off the sprite’s poisons, but their effect must have lingered. She felt exhausted to her core. 

“It seems you and I left home for the same reason,” Rathi said as Celeste tugged on a nightdress before moving to help Rathi with her armor. She offered Celeste a grateful smile. “I’m on something of an exploratory journey myself. No real destination in mind.” 

Rathi slipped out of her armor, but nothing else. She was fine sleeping in her travel clothes. It was more trouble to get undressed and redressed. She’d learned to adapt. 

“I’m going with Tyrael because I figured travelling alone isn’t a good idea, but he’s not having a good time.” Celeste crawled onto her narrow hammock and sighed with relief as she wrapped herself in the thin blankets. “If I told you I was jealous he was given a quest, would you think me a bad person?” 

Rathi shook her head. “Not at all. It’s pretty normal I’d think.” She blotted at her damp clothes with a towel before she let a brief burst of flame roll over her body, drying the rest. “He’s lucky he has you to support him.” 

"Damn right, he's lucky," Celeste declared. 

They shared a laugh. 

Celeste propped her head up on her palm and gave Rathi a keen look. "If you're wandering, then where are you going once we dock?" 

Rathi shrugged and kicked off her boots, which landed with twin thumps against the chest under her hammock. "Wherever the wind takes me, I suppose. South maybe. You?" 

"Wherever Cyrillus tells us. All we knew was to get on this ship." 

"Kinda vague isn't it?" Rathi wrinkled her nose. 

"Cyrillus is not one for specifics." Celeste furrowed her brow and turned onto her back, folding her arms over her belly. "Tyrael is his only paladin, and he hasn't had a cleric in years. Most people forget he exists." 

Rathi honestly didn't know of him herself, and she'd done a quick read-up of the most common mortal-plane deities before she ventured here. It was best to be informed as much as possible. It wouldn't be right to offend someone and cause a riot which could be avoided. 

Though a riot might be fun, under certain circumstances. 

Rathi gave Celeste a keen look. "Are you sure Cyrillus is even a god? What if he's just a shadow demon pretending to be a god?" There were plenty of beings skulking around the exterior planes who were capable of such a deception, and had enough magic to share and put themselves off as false deities. 

Angrahm had been caught and punished for such a thing. She was currently rotting in the Ash Pits, sentenced to a punishment that would last half her lifetime. The goddesses didn't appreciate such things. 

Celeste tilted her head. "I've read about him in old books. Cyrillus is a god, if one fallen from favor, but you know, it's not a stretch to think he's too far fallen and some demon could be masquerading as him. I never thought about that." She frowned, her forehead wrinkling with concern. "Maybe I should." 

"I'm probably wrong. I'm a suspicious sort is all," Rathi said, trying to ease some of the tension now visibly lining Celeste's face. 

She managed a smile, casting her a warm look. "It's good to question these kinds of things. Besides, you were never suspicious toward us." 

"That you know of." 

Celeste laughed, and it was such a pretty sound. She had an innocence about her, Celeste did, the way she saw the world as something beautiful and worthy to be explored. But there was a hurt in the back of her eyes, a darkness too, and Rathi was interested to find out what shadowed her. 

Too bad she had only a week until they landed at Port Duran. 

"We made a pretty good team out there, you know," Celeste said, casual-like, one hand rising to tangle her fingers in her hair, with a little twist. "And it can be dangerous to travel alone." 

Rathi wriggled about in her own narrow hammock that smelled of sweat and salt and aging twine. "Are you inviting me on your cousin's mysterious quest which may or may not be at the behest of a false god?" 

Celeste chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way... it sounds a little crazy, doesn't it?" 

"Very." Rathi curled over onto her stomach, head still turned toward Celeste. "But I'm also not saying no. It's not like I have anything better to do." 

"Good." 

"Besides, it sounds like you need help looking after Tyrael." 

Celeste snorted a laugh. "By the gods, but that's true. He's stubborn and prone to injury, and I swear I've been looking after him all my life, even if he is older than me." 

"Older brothers are such a handful," Rathi mused aloud, as her heart gave a little pang of sadness. She missed Eryen some days more than others, and watching Celeste and Tyrael interact was a reminder of her brother's absence. 

"Yes, they are." Celeste chuckled and spun herself into the blankets like a caterpillar forming a cocoon. "Anyway, the invitation's out there. Think about it. I'd be glad to have you." 

"I will. Thank you, Celeste." 

Rathi twirled her fingers and pulled the flames from the candles. As she drew her fingers into a fist, she snuffed the fire, casting their room into darkness. 

“That’s an amazing trick,” Celeste said, her voice floating from her side of the room. 

Rathi chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve got some, too. I have time to find out.” 

There was a moment of silence before Celeste said, “You are an incorrigible flirt, Rathi. Good night.” 

Rathi grinned and closed her eyes. “G’night.”

~

_You are on the right path, my favored._

Tyrael’s eyes snapped open, and he knew this was a dream. Cyrillus never spoke to him otherwise, and only in dreams did the world leech of color. 

He recognized where he was – the Contemplation Garden – though it looked different in shades of gray and shadow. He sat on one of the benches in the gazebo, staring blankly into the surrounding foliage. It was oddly silent, lacking the rustle of leaves, the chirp of birds, the click of insects. 

“Where am I going next?” Tyrael asked. 

_South_, Cyrillus whispered and the ghost of his touch brushed Tyrael’s shoulders before vanishing again. _Keep south. Find the Selwyn_. 

Tyrael frowned. He’d never heard of anything called the Selwyn. “What is this about? What do you need me to do?” 

_Have faith_. 

“In what?” 

Silence. 

Wind caressed his face, but the vegetation didn’t move. The flowers didn’t sway. The branches didn’t twitch. 

“I am happy to serve,” Tyrael said, ears straining to catch any hint of Cyrillus’ voice or presence. “I only need direction.” 

_South_. 

Frustration gnawed Tyrael’s heart. He swallowed it down. He knew better than to question Cyrillus, but he tried nonetheless. He wanted answers. He wanted to know why he had to leave Alduin, what Cyrillus needed of him. 

He wanted a better answer than a direction. 

Tyrael bowed his head, closed his eyes. “I will go south,” he said. 

There was a touch to the top of his head. _Thank you, my love,_ Cyrillus murmured, and warmth flowed through Tyrael’s body, easing aches he hadn’t realized he carried. _All will be revealed soon. Have faith._

“I will,” Tyrael promised. “My life is yours.”

Fingers dragged down the back of his neck, raising the fine hairs there. _Yes, it is._

Tyrael’s eyes snapped open, in the dim of the room he shared with Celeste and Rathi. There was a faint light coming from the porthole, indicating a rising dawn. The ship rolled and swayed beneath him, and Tyrael waited for the clench of nausea, the immediate sweep of a cold sweat. 

None came. 

_My gift to you_, Cyrillus whispered in the last strings of the dream, and then he was fully gone. 

Oh, thank Cyrillus. 

Tyrael sighed softly and relaxed into the embrace of the blankets, though they were damp around him, probably because he’d been tucked into bed in his rain-wet clothes and sweated out his sickness. 

South. 

It was a tad bit frustrating to have so little direction, but Tyrael would have to trust in Cyrillus. He’d made his decision to serve over a decade ago, and he was determined not to abandon it. 

He rolled on his side, toward Celeste who was knocked out and snoring, and a little laugh escaped him. Some things never changed. He pulled his blanket up to his shoulders, and let the gentle sway of the boat guide him back to sleep.

~

“So I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Rathi to join us on your quest,” Celeste said as the morning struck, and the three of them rose, with the sun beaming brightly through the porthole.

Rathi dug a small bag of dried fruit out of her trunk and passed it around. “I mean, it’s not like I have anything better to do.” 

“I see,” Tyrael said, careful to keep his tone neutral. 

He sat cross-legged on the floor between them, his back against the small trunk beneath the window. He declined the dried fruit, unwilling to trust his stomach despite Cyrillus’ boon. Rathi shrugged and tossed it to Celeste, who dug in eagerly. 

“They’re going to have actual breakfast though, right?” Celeste asked around a mouthful of some chewy fruit. 

“That depends on what you mean by actual breakfast,” Rathi said, and scrunched up her nose. “Choices are limited.” 

This was originally a quest Tyrael was meant to partake alone. Or at least, he assumed so. Cyrillus hadn’t mentioned either way. He hadn’t been forthcoming with any details. 

Rathi was a stranger. Tyrael wasn’t eager to wander around with a stranger at his back, but…

“Hardtack and dried fish, I’ll bet,” Celeste said with a sigh. She munched on what appeared to be dried mango. “We have some rations, too.” She perked up. “I have granola.” 

“It’s only fair to share,” Rathi said. 

Celeste leaned out of the hammock, which creaked ominously, but she kept her balance as she snagged her travel bag and started to fish around in it. “Made it myself. It’s only good stuff.” 

“You are a saint, and I think I’m the lucky one here,” Rathi declared as she caught the small bag Celeste tossed her, a motion done with ease despite only having the one hand. 

Celeste grinned and held up a piece of dried something, the flesh a pale pink and purple. “What’s this one?” 

“Spicefruit! It grows only on Cinder Mountain,” Rathi said. 

They chattered above his head, and Tyrael didn’t mind so much. He didn’t feel excluded. It felt.. comfortable. Like Rathi wasn’t a stranger at all. 

He thought he ought to protest her inviting herself on the quest, but he’d never seen Celeste befriend someone so quickly. He’d never seen her so open with anyone who wasn’t family. 

Tyrael was reluctant to disturb that. 

So he bit his tongue and pulled out a quill and some loose paper. He meant to write Elias, who would surely enjoy tales of their journey so far, and the assurance of Tyrael’s safety. Perhaps it would help ease the ache of longing in Tyrael’s heart as well. 

Rathi could come. 

He’d just keep an eye on her. 

South it was.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very welcome and appreciated. I'd love to know what you think of my original characters!


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